1948: Arthur writes a letter to his commander

     I'm working on transcribing and translating a letter my grandfather wrote to his Maquis commander back in France, about 18 months after my family immigrated here. As I work on these documents, I'm amazed at how well my grandfather's voice comes through in his letter, even given my poor French and (probably) clunky machine translations.

    The man could write.  Take a look at the following excerpt:

    I'm very happy here. My lab rolls from one drilling site to another, all by itself. After some initial difficulties, I now have three surveyors who know their stuff and have perfect professional ethics. I therefore devote myself almost exclusively to the research work that fascinates me. Before emigrating, I feared that I would become a small cog in a huge gear train. I thought the entire face of America was like the butcher shops of Chicago (Duhamel's "Scenes from a Future Life") or the Ford assembly lines in Detroit. Instead, I found here a greater freedom than I have ever had.

--Arthur Lubinski to Dr. Jean Planas, July 29, 1948 

     *See below for the original French.

    It is striking how much hope is in his letter, and how positive he was, but what he didn't say is as important as what he did. Grandpa didn't mention his family's struggles to get by (starting over in a new country is expensive). He also didn't mention that his job took him from drilling platforms (even a few early offshore sites) to oil wells all over the American South and Southwest. He liked the job, which served as a crash course in petroleum engineering, but hated that it kept him away from his family for weeks at a time.  And I believe he was exaggerating when he said that he was devoted exclusively to fascinating research, though that became true later.

    

    He actually liked the job so much that he asked my grandmother if she would consider living in a camper, so she and their daughters could accompany him as he explored the Southwest.  My grandparents had been separated by war for most of 1944, and Grandma was used to being self-sufficient. She knew Grandpa would eventually find a job that would allow him to stay in Tulsa, and that the separation would be temporary.  So she said no, as she wanted a stable home for their girls, preferably one with good schools and near her brother (who was her only surviving relative - so far as she knew, the Holocaust erased everyone else). 

    Grandpa referenced someone named Duhamel in the excerpt, and I had to look that one up. In 1930, Georges Duhamel published a book called Scènes de la vie future, or in English, America's Menace: Scenes from a Future Life.  Like Dr. Planas, Duhamel was a French medical doctor who served in World War I.   In 1929, Dr. Duhamel visited the United States, arriving in New Orleans and traveling north along the Mississippi, then pausing for significant visits in Chicago and New York City.  

    His hosts introduced him to various aspects of America, trying to give him a genuine sense of the country.  He saw the slaughterhouses and the elevated train in Chicago, mass production in giant factories, and the subways of New York City. They also introduced him to our cultural influences, taking him to see museums,  architecture, movies, and sporting events.    He was impressed by our ingenuity and technical innovation, but horrified by our soulless consumerism and puritanical morality (he visited during Prohibition).  It doesn't surprise me that Arthur wasn't deterred by Dr. Duhamel's book.  As an engineer, he would have valued the booming industry and the efficiency it described.  

    Interestingly, I found a copy of Duhamel's book for $750. It's a first edition and is inscribed to H. G. Wells, of all people. I found myself wanting it for no good reason, because, damn, that's so cool (no, I didn't seriously consider buying it).  If you'd like to read more about the book, which many people consider to have planted the seeds of anti-American sentiment in Europe, this is the French Wikipedia page about it (I have my browser set to automatically translate).  The page is worth reading -- it makes many good points about American culture, but because this is my home, the scales weigh differently for me than they did for Duhamel. And if you are really interested, you can find the book in English on the Internet Archive, although you'll need to create an account to access more than the flyleaf and table of contents.

    And finally, it's fascinating to me that Grandpa worried about being insignificant here in the US, but happily didn't find that to be true.  I think most Americans know they are small cogs in a big wheel, but Grandpa was curious, hardworking, highly educated, and brilliant. And most importantly, he wanted to work in a lucrative industry that needed men like him, men who could point out a problem and then be given the freedom to solve it.  Even to a cynical American cog like myself, "I found here a greater freedom than I have ever had," gives me joy.

* Je suis très heureux ici. Mon labo roulant d'un chantier de forage à une autre jonetiance tout seul, Après quelques difficultés de début, j’ai maintenant trois orienteurs connaissant leur métier et ayant une conscience professionnelle parfaite. Je me dévoue donc presque exclusivement aux travaux de recherche qui me passionnent. Avant d'émigrer je craignais que je ne devienne ici une petite roue d’un immense train d'engrenages.. Je pensais que l'entier visage de l’Amérique est comme les boucheries de Chicago (“Scènes de vie Future“ de Duhamel) ou, les chaînes de Ford à Detroit. Au lieu de-tout cela, j’ai trouvé ici une liberté plus grande que je n'ai jamais eue.

--Arthur Lubinski au Dr Jean Planas, 29 juillet 1948